Beauty and the Beast
by Mishirure
Summary: A Shakarian fanfiction from Garrus' point of view. A short drabble.


_**Beauty and the Beast, a Shakarian Fanfiction**_

_**by Mishirure**__  
_

* * *

Garrus Vakarian wasn't an insecure man. In fact, he was quite confident and very self-assured, which to some translated as cocky. Always the smooth-talker and sharp as a whip, he was well desired by many turian women. His strength and strong family background also helped in his favor. No, Garrus Vakarian was a very confident man, in many areas of his life. Except, perhaps one.

His relationship with Shepard ran deep. When he first met her, it was on the citadel, almost five years ago, and she'd been dead for two of them. Those two years without her were the hardest of his life, though he'd never admit it. Not since his mother had been diagnosed with that terrible disease of hers… Though he was civil yet frosty with her when they first met, he respected her immensely; she was a woman who got things done, by any means necessary, which had always been his own belief. He liked that about her. But as time went on, and she made her usual rounds to talk to the crew, human and alien alike, trying to get to know everyone, he found himself looking forward to those conversations, an opportunity to ask her questions and advice. She always gave it, without question. She never judged. He liked that about her the best; she never saw the race or species, only the person in front of her. She was probably the noblest human on the whole damn Normandy.

The talks turned longer and longer, their friendship running deeper and deeper, and then those two years she was gone… He almost couldn't breathe when he saw her on Omega, running over that bridge to get to him. It was like a piece of himself was back in place, knowing that she was in the world again. He didn't care how it happened or who was responsible – sure, Cerberus had a shady back story, but he wasn't about to let something like that ruin a good thing – he was just glad.

After the whole ordeal with Sidonis, she'd proposed the idea of easing tension. He'd been surprised enough by what he thought was a suggestion to spar, but when she casually leaned against his console at the main battery, suggesting they skip right to the tie-breaker, he was completely floored. Was he hearing her correctly? She could have had anyone she wanted on the Normandy; he'd noticed Jacob's roaming eyes while they were on missions, and he'd even seen Thane take a backwards glance at her when she passed him through the Mess Hall. Not to mention Kaiden and Liara's obvious crushes from the original Normandy. Oh maaan, those last two were WAY to obvious. But he was true with what he said; there was no one in the galaxy he respected – or trusted – more than her. So he agreed.

The more he thought about it, though, the more he began to worry about it. How the hell would this work? Their DNA was completely different, for Spirit's sake. Not only that, but he could do significant damage to her; Shepard was strong, surely, but she wasn't invincible. There was enough proof in the fact she'd been declared _dead_ two years earlier. Maybe she hadn't noticed, but he had _talons _and long, sharp _fangs; _to most humans, that spelled danger. He'd overheard some humans on the Citadel once say that turians looked like monsters from a bad horror movie. Granted, none were as accepting as Shepard, but _still_; the idea worried him.

She didn't back down, though. She reassured him that she wanted it, that this was something she was willingly accepting. She gave him the option to back out if he was too uncomfortable with the idea. He was never uncomfortable, he told her. Nervous, yes, but never uncomfortable. It would either be a night to cherish, or an awkward cross-species thing that would go terribly wrong.

He came to her before they ventured into the Omega 4 relay. He caught her on her way out of the shower, and he was nervous, but tried to play it off. Wine and music; those were things human women liked, right? She laughed, joking with him, trying to lighten the mood, but suddenly he was convinced this had to be _perfect. _He needed _something _to go right… just… just one thing…

And it was. It was awkward, trying to figure out what the other liked, what with different anatomies, but through the clumsiness of it all, there was a certain tranquility and perfection to it. They were so sensitive to each other, learning the others' body, listening for tells of pleasure, a hitch in breath, a soft growl of approval. Her skin was soft under his rough hands, talons gently grazing at the flesh, leaving small scratches in their wake that caused her muscles to tense and arch against him in appreciation. The soft curves of her form were a surprise to him – he was so used to seeing her in armor or in her uniform – but not at all unpleasant. He could feel her strong, lean muscles from all those years of military training, but seeing the quiet joy and pleasure on her face, the way she would gasp softly when he touched certain places the way she would throw her head back with a small cry reminded him that she was a woman, a human woman, and very fragile. He was careful and gentle with her, taking care to keep control of himself, and in the end, they both lay gasping side by side on the bed. As he drifted off to sleep, blankets and sheets slung low around his hips, she leaned over him, resting her chin on the hand over his cowl and used her other hand to trace the plates on his face, the blue markings of his clan, the ridge of his nose, and the soft, leather skin around his closed eyes. Her fingers even trailed lightly over the still-pink scars on the right side of his face, a feathery touch he didn't know was possible from her. They were quite the pair, her all soft curves and pink skin, him all hard edges and dark plates. In those few moments before the Collectors, and even after their victory, they would lay side by side after their love-making (which became easier and easier) and simply study each other.

It was in those moments he realized just how beautiful she was.

The six months away from her after she turned herself over to the alliance was what really caused his insecurities to bubble to the surface.

He hadn't heard from her once. He didn't know how she was, or what she was doing or if she was safe. The news of the attack on Earth definitely worried him, but he was good at hiding his fears and insecurities. He threw himself into his work, advising his men as best he could on the reapers. When he saw her again on Menae, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed her, or how much he cared about her. A warrior goddess, marching forward, all business in her armor. Even though she looked a little tired, she was still a beauty in his eyes. She kept it strictly business during their mission, never straying from the task at hand. He did notice the new human, Vega, taking a glance at her every now and then as she led the way. That definitely caused his skin to crawl.

Even when he was back on the Normandy, the insecurities were still there. She came to see him in the main battery, reassuring him that she still wanted to be with him when he expressed some concerns. With the promise of a better wine than they'd had the first time they were together, the promise of their bonding lingered, but as missions went on and they got deeper into their work, he began to notice just how many people were vying for Shepard's attention. Specialist Trayner, the journalist who was, for some reason, on the ship, a good portion of the male crew, though they knew better than to actually try anything, even Liara was stealing glances at her during meetings, always touching her arm during conversations, lingering eye contact… When Kaiden eventually got himself out of the hospital after the Cerberus attack on the Citadel, even he was moving in again, hanging onto her every word during meetings like an adoring puppy.

When the rumors started going around that Shepard was inviting people up to her cabin, namely all of the people who had expressed interest in her in some way or another, was when he fears really started to get to him. Everyone was convinced something was going on, she was sleeping with so and so, but wait, she had a thing for aliens. EDI, of course, was hardly helpful when she quelled the rumors, informing some people about the commander's previous relationship with the turian. People were, needless to say, shocked. Shepard was really banging THAT? The lizard-bird?

He definitely knew he wasn't attractive by human standards; in fact, turian appearances scared most people. Overhearing these responses, he really began to question himself; was he _good enough _for Shepard? She could easily have something closer to home… Alenko would be more than yielding. Hell, she'd even gone on a lunch date with him at the Citadel. Was she finally seeing him the way everyone else saw him? Just a turian? An alien, outside of their DNA and customs and culture?

He asked her to hang out with him, to do something fun, just to see. Of course she accepted, almost excited to spend some time alone with him. Their conversation and flirty banter flowed as naturally as always as he drove to the top of the Presidium. Even if she did reject him, he was already preparing to let her go; he knew that she was too good for him, anyway. The fact that he'd had her at all was nothing short of a miracle to him.

A 'one-turian kind of woman', he'd said. Was she willing to commit? Because this was the point of no return; whatever she said, he'd be invested in either answer forever.

"I love you, Garrus Vakarian," she'd said.

And he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He belonged to her. Heart, mind, body and soul, he was hers forever. Even days later, back on the Normandy, with many crew-members grumbling about their relationship, about how Shepard could do so much better, how she could sleep with someone without the risk of death from either claws, fangs or allergic reaction, she still held her head high as she made her way to the Main Battery to check up on him. She heard the rumors, he knew she did. But she didn't care. She'd made her choice, and she was sticking to it.

As she approached him, the door closing behind her, he looked down at the hand she had just slipped into his, small pink again dark and clawed. They were so different, so _incompatible _in every way, but they were clearly made for each other. Neither wanted anyone else. They'd even made their own inside joke about the rumors flying around through the crew, based on an old human fairy-tale.

She was his beauty and he was, for always, her beast.


End file.
